


On the Right Track

by emviaa



Category: Batman - All Media Types, Super Sons (Comics)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-07
Updated: 2020-02-07
Packaged: 2021-02-21 21:03:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,479
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22603516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/emviaa/pseuds/emviaa
Summary: Jon was supposed to meet Damian down in the batcave for a sparring session tonight, but when he gets there, he’s met with a sight he’s only ever seen in the movies. And it’s one for the books. Damian is grinning at a surgical instrument that looks suspiciously like a pair of scissors as he stands over someone with a bullet lodged in his leg. “I’m going to enjoy watching the world’s third greatest self-proclaimed detective squirm underneath my superiority.”“Screw off, Damian. You don’t always have to act like such an asshole.”
Relationships: Jonathan Kent & Damian Wayne
Comments: 4
Kudos: 170





	On the Right Track

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt request: "Could I request Jon meeting the batboys and batgirls for the 1st time (except Damian because his Jon's Boyfriend or Bestfriend, you choose)"
> 
> I couldn’t really see Jon not meeting the entire family as Damian’s friend first, so this takes place when he’s ten or so and Damian is thirteen. Also, I was listening to rock music while coming up with ideas for this and everything ended up kind of like a crack/comedy fic because it’s all happening very fast and it’s totally normal for the batfam but Jon is just like “what the actual frack did I just walk in on” the entire time.

* * *

Jon had been descending the steps that led to the batcave when he heard the sound of a car speeding through the tunnel.

It wasn’t his first time down here by any means, and he had seen the batmobile enter and exit the cave half a dozen times when Batman was heading out for missions. He always thought it was so cool to watch the hydraulic turntable spin it around in slow circles, as if it were a trophy or some invaluable treasure placed on display. Because it really was, but that was beside the point.

It was the fact that he was hearing the batmobile itself, and knowing Batman wasn’t the one driving because he had just given him access to the cave from ground level, that caught Jon’s attention. He paused where he was standing on the stairs and gripped the strap of his backpack a little tighter.

A few seconds later, he watched as the batmobile practically drifted into place on the hydraulic turntable, tires screeching against the stained concrete. A man jumped out of the driver’s seat. He was tall, had dark hair, wore a mask to conceal his identity and a black bodysuit with an inverted blue triangle embellished over his chest and down both arms. A pair of eschrima sticks were strapped to his back. Jon recognized the symbol and knew it belonged to the hero named Nightwing. Damian talked about him all the time and had said that Nightwing was his oldest brother and the very first Robin. Jon had never met him before.

Nightwing rounded the batmobile and flung the passenger side door open. There was another man in that seat, also wearing a mask and in uniform. His suit was red along the torso and black for the pants (or were they tights?), with armored sleeves and a dark cape. The utility belt extended up along his flank and merged with the symbol over his sternum. Jon didn’t know this man, but he was clearly injured. He could hear him groaning and clutching at his left leg as he attempted to get out of the vehicle. The man stumbled into Nightwing, who swung his right arm over his shoulder and held him around the waist for support. The pair ran off to the right and out of Jon’s line of sight.

He hurried down the rest of the stairs, wanting to know what was going on. Jon had only just arrived and was supposed to be meeting with Damian for a sparring session in the batcave, so what was all this?

He made it halfway before another vehicle zoomed down the ramp and skidded to a halt beside the batmobile. Jon knew it was Damian on his motorcycle before he even removed his helmet. Damian dramatically tossed it onto the seat, grumbling profanities as he stalked in the direction of the two men from earlier. Jon considered calling out to him to get his attention but decided to get a closer look instead. Whatever was going on, Damian had some sort of involvement in it.

When Jon turned around the corner, he saw that all three suited heroes were in some sort of medical bay. It was fully equipped to look like a small operating room, with a gurney at the center and surgical lights hanging from above. Cabinets stocked with various medical supplies, tools, and medications lined the adjacent wall. The man in the red suit was lying face down on said gurney, propped up on his forearms as Nightwing pulled dozens of materials out of the cupboards.

“Are you kidding me?” he heard the man in red complain. “We’re out of anesthetic?”

“Alfred is on vacation,” Nightwing told him, “and none of us had the chance to drop by Leslie’s for extra supplies yet.”

Damian was removing his armored gloves and tossing them aside to don a set that was carefully packed in plastic and paper wrapping. Nightwing was opening other packages, refraining from touching the contents inside as he dropped them onto a metal table draped with blue fabric.

“Just one quick mission, huh? No risk of an ambush or anything from our good friend Two Face. Yeah, we could totally handle it by ourselves. Because that’s what Batman would—ow!”

Nightwing pressed a rag against the man’s leg. Jon hadn’t noticed it was bleeding until the rag came back red. His uniform kept it well hidden. Jon used his X-ray vision to deduce that there was a bullet lodged in the back of his left leg.

Damian picked up a surgical instrument that looked like a pair of scissors from the table and grinned mischievously. “I’m going to enjoy watching the world’s third greatest self-proclaimed detective squirm underneath my superiority.”

“Screw off, Damian. You don’t always have to act like such an asshole.”

“I don’t know, Tim,” Nightwing chuckled, “Little D’s got a few scalpels lying around here. Choose your words wisely.”

“And you put them there,” the man named Tim argued. “Stop enabling him!”

Damian stuck the scissor-like instrument into Tim’s leg without warning. At first, he tried to hold back his scream but the pain must have been bad because he cried out anyway, and it got progressively louder the more attempts Damian made to extract the bullet. Jon had never seen anything like this in person, only the movies. He watched on with wide eyes and never-ending curiosity for how on earth Damian knew how to do something like this.

When he finally had a good grip on the bullet, he drew it out slowly and held the offending object out in the air for inspection. Nightwing reassured Tim that they were almost done, but before Damian had the chance to start stitching him up, another man showed up out of seemingly nowhere. He was dressed in a brown T-shirt and black shorts, sweat dripping down his face and soaking into his clothes. A pair of headphones hung carelessly from the collar of his shirt. He had black hair with a thin white streak that clung to his forehead. The man brushed it back with his arm before scowling at the sight he walked in on.

“Damian, _what the fuck?"_ he bellowed, thrusting his hands out dramatically.

Whoever he was, Damian and Nightwing surely must have known him because the looks on their faces was actually kind of funny.

“Jay. We can explain,” Nightwing said.

In all honesty, Jon really hadn’t thought anyone would notice him. He made an effort to hide in the shadows and around blind corners, but the second this new person turned and laid their eyes on him, he felt his stomach jump into his throat. It wasn’t like he shouldn’t be here, but somehow it still felt like he wasn’t meant to see this. That, and if his presence hadn't alarmed them enough to immediately attack, he supposed that was a good sign. The batcave would have flagged him as an intruder if he really was. 

“Who the hell are you?”

Damian, Nightwing, and Tim all turned and stared at him. Jon already felt very self-conscious, but when he emerged from his spot, he fixed the backpack slung over his right shoulder and cleared his throat. “I’m, uh…Jon. Jon Kent, Damian’s friend. We were supposed to train together down here tonight. Mr. Wayne let me in.”

As if there weren’t enough people in the current vicinity, another person stepped into the room. She was young, probably in her teens, with short black hair and dressed in a white tank top and leggings. She looked like she had been working out with the man in the brown shirt but wasn’t nearly as sweaty, if at all. When she saw that everyone was staring at Jon but not moving, she joined in on the party.

The man in the brown shirt sighed heavily, earning everyone’s attention. “Well, that’s one way to introduce your new friend to the whole family. I’m gonna go on a whim here and say this is that super-squirt you’ve been talking about lately?”

“I have more friends than you, Todd, and this isn’t my fault,” Damian defended. He pointed to Tim on the table. “If Drake hadn’t placed himself in such a compromising position, he wouldn’t have had a bullet lodged in his leg.”

“None of this would’ve even happened if you hadn’t shown up in the first place,” Tim argued, turning on Damian. “Dick and I had it handled just fine.”

“Keep talking and I’ll put that bullet right up your—”

“That’s enough,” Nightwing interjected. “Knock it off, you guys. In case you already forgot, we have a guest in the house.”

Was this…a normal occurrence around here? Because everyone seemed far too casual about what just happened for it to not be normal.

Looks like the sparring session might have to wait.


End file.
